


The End of Days

by colobonema



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Action, Balamb Garden (Final Fantasy VIII), F/M, Gen, Inappropriate Humor, Pining, Possession, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Sorceresses, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colobonema/pseuds/colobonema
Summary: Selphie's life is altered forever by an encounter on a mission for the Duke of Dollet. The magic is stronger than the vessel, or so they say; but are all vessels equal? Postgame, multi-POV (Selphie, Irvine, Rinoa).
Relationships: Irvine Kinneas/Selphie Tilmitt, Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter I**

"Damn thing won't open."

"Let me try." Selphie pushed Irvine's hands away and jiggled the shiny gold key in the blackened, flaked iron lock. "I'm pretty sure it's just stiff with all the rust."

"Hurry up and get us in." He grinned. "This is gonna be fun."

She shot him the side-eye. "You're just happy 'cause you get to be alone with me for the day."

Irvine's blissful enthusiasm would not be dampened. "Damn right I am, Sefie. And who could blame me?"

She liked Irvine. She quite liked fooling around with him. Letting him kiss her. Letting him slip his hands under her shirt, when she was feeling particularly generous. But every now and again she'd catch him looking at her like a devoted puppy, and she'd back away. She really didn't need that. Her life was too busy, too interesting, for that kind of... thing.

He was doing it right now. The puppy-dog eyes. He probably didn't even realize how lovesick he looked.

"I got my gun, got my girl, and we're goin' on a good old-fashioned ghost hunt. Couldn't be happier."

She snorted. _Ghosts._ "Yeah, right. I can't believe the Duke's family let a hokey story like that keep them out of here for so long. Idiots."

"Hokey, huh? Let's find out."

The handle finally turned, and the huge oak door to Hasberry Castle creaked slowly open.

* * *

_The Duke of Dollet cleared his throat. "The mission objective itself is, it pains me to say, something of an embarrassment."_

_Irvine stretched out his legs, propping his cowboy boots on top of the Duke's polished writing desk. "No need to worry about that, your Grace. SeeDs are immune to embarrassment in all its forms."_

_The Duke's eyes traveled to the spurs on Irvine's scuffed boots, and he blinked at the fresh scratches they had left on the gleaming surface of the desk._

" _I... see."_

_Selphie nudged Irvine sharply from behind and directed a glare into his ponytail._ You really should be house-trained by now, Kinneas, _she thought._

" _Your Grace, our Commander indicated that our objective is to reclaim Hasberry Castle for the Dukedom," she said. "Has it been overrun by monsters?"_

" _There has been some infestation, naturally, but not to a level that our army couldn't handle. No, I'm afraid that the problem is that any troops that have been sent there in the past decades have refused to ascend to the second floor. Overwhelmed by... dread, I'm told."_

" _Dread?"_

" _The general consensus is that the castle is haunted. I must say that we Dolletians are rather superstitious about that sort of thing."_

_Irvine smirked. "So you just left it to the ghosts?"_

_The Duke scratched the end of his nose. "We did."_

" _Why hire us now, then?"_

" _With SeeD's rise to prominence, I rather thought that it was time to try again. The last expedition to the castle was when I was a boy. My father considered it a lost cause. I am the Duke, now, however. And I find it embarrassing that a fear of ghosts has prevented my family from returning to our ancestral seat. It remains, after all, the largest surviving castle in the Western continent. The jewel of the old Empire."_

_Selphie leaned forward in her chair. "How long has it been abandoned?"_

" _Since the aftermath of the raids on Malgo and Hasberry by Galbadian rebels prior to the Lunar Cry. Not the, ah, recent Lunar Cry, of course."_

_She made a swift mental calculation. "So roughly a hundred and ten years?"_

_The Duke's face lit up with approval. "You know your history, my dear. Good. No wonder your Commander recommended you both so highly. I can see you're the best team for the job."_

_Irvine leaned to the side of his chair, and slipped his arm around Selphie's shoulder, ignoring her attempts to shrug it off._

" _We're the best team for any job, your Grace. Her, and me."_

* * *

Selphie stepped cautiously into the cavernous atrium, and surveyed its size with awe. "This must've been the Great Hall."

She closed her eyes, and just for a moment, tried to imagine it at the height of the Holy Dollet Empire. The crumbling walls would be festooned with banners, the now-shattered windows gleaming with intricate stained glass. She pictured the Hall packed with handsome Imperial knights, lords and ladies, servants-

Irvine swung his rifle to his shoulder. "Incoming, Sef."

A pair of scuttling Geezards leapt from the spiral staircase, and Irvine dispatched one neatly with a single bullet, letting Selphie take the other out with her nunchaku. She kicked the carcasses away with a flick of her boots, and jumped onto the bottom stair.

"The only way is up, right?" she said over her shoulder as she raced up the steps, and Irvine laughed, loping up the staircase three steps at a time with his long legs, soon overtaking her.

"I call shotgun!" he yelled as he dashed into the upstairs corridor, then halted abruptly at the open door to the first room.

"What?" demanded Selphie, pushing past him into a broken, once-ornate bedroom, the rotted stumps of its full-poster bed drawing her eyes to the threadbare quilt, where a corpse, _no, not a corpse, she's breathing..._

Selphie stood very still and watched the impossibly old woman lying on the bed as she drew slow breaths, her face like crumpled paper, her flesh barely clinging to her bones.

Behind her, Irvine stepped forward. She didn't have to look round to know he had removed his hat in respect. "Ma'am, are you hurt?"

The woman turned her milky-white eyes on him. "Not you," she rasped.

Irvine took a pace towards her, stopping in his tracks when she let out an angry snarl like an alley cat.

"Stay back, boy."

Her eyes traveled to Selphie, and she tilted her hairless head.

"You. Come here."

Selphie took a tentative step towards the bed, then when the woman remained still, she moved closer.

She was close enough now to see the blue veins in the woman's corpse-like skin, and the way her eyes shifted in her hollow face. She looked Selphie up and down.

"You'll have to do."

The woman's milky eyes started to glow with a faint greenish light, and Selphie was gripped with the odd feeling that the woman could see straight into her head, right to the back of Selphie's skull.

Without warning, she sat up bolt upright in the bed, her thin bones snapping upwards like rigor mortis, and reached out her skeletal hand to grab Selphie's fingers tightly. Her flesh was barely there; Selphie felt as if she was clutching at a spiderweb.

"Take it."

The woman's eyes betrayed a smile of triumph, of release, and then it came.

In the space of a few seconds, Selphie's world shifted on its axis, and everything changed. North was now South, zero had become one, death was life. Where there had been silence, there was now a cacophony of sound bursting free. She let it wash over her, and looked on with a detached curiosity as the woman's papery skin sagged and melted away into fine dust, the worn remnants of her bones cracking and crumbling onto the bed.

Irvine gave a startled cry from behind, and Selphie stood, and straightened her shoulders.

"What the hell?" he spluttered. "She just... died?"

"She was already dead. She couldn't pass on until she gave her powers away."

"You mean-"

"Yeah." A small, spinning ball of lightning rose from her palm. She watched idly as it bounced around, then tried passing it from one hand to the other. It flew to her other palm, and sunk back into her flesh. She shivered at the sensation. The sparks were white-hot, but she felt no pain.

Irvine's eyes were wide, incredulous. "Holy hell, Sefie."

"Yeah."

"What do we do now?"

She shrugged, registering a stab of annoyance at the word _we._ This was hers.

"How do you mean?"

"Well," he floundered, "what line do you want to take in our report to the Duke?"

"We tell him the ghost has been eliminated. Using undisclosed SeeD methods." Selphie brushed past him to leave the room, and he trotted behind her.

"Yeah, he doesn't need to know the details. But the report to Squall... that's gonna have the whole story, right?"

"I suppose." The presence of the Commander's girlfriend at Balamb Garden meant that any attempt to hide what had happened would be futile. Rinoa would know straight away. Selphie had heard it said that one sorceress always recognizes another on sight. Perhaps Rinoa would see her in a different way now. She might see Rinoa differently, too. The thought fizzled and popped in her head, and she liked it.

"You could probably use a knight, huh?" Irvine tried to mask his hopeful tone with a chuckle at the end, but Selphie was not fooled. She never was.

"Maybe." She paused at the top of the staircase, and slung him a sidelong glance. "Doesn't mean it has to be you, though."

Irvine clasped his chest and staggered backwards in mock injury. "Brutal, Sef."

She ignored him, and descended the staircase.

"Look, don't worry," he said when he reached her side as she crossed the debris-strewn floor of the Great Hall. "All it really means is that you don't need to carry a stock of spells anymore. That's the only thing that's changed. Hey, think of all the money you'll save the Garden's para-magic budget. Xu might give you a bonus."

She stared at him blankly. _This is an accounting issue to you?_

Irvine thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned. "Damn, I'm getting jealous. You won't have to spend time Drawing magic ever again. It'll be awesome, Sefie."

"Awesome. Yeah."

* * *

She let him take the wheel on the drive back to Dollet, and gazed out the car window, motionless, feeling the magic creep and crawl under her skin.

Irvine kept glancing at her. After a while, he leaned over the gearstick to pat her on the shoulder.

"You're still the same ol' Sefie. It'll be fine, I promise."

_I don't want it to be fine,_ she thought. _I want it to be more than that. I want it to be... everything._

The magic tingled at her fingertips, and she let it seep out: over her knuckles, across her palms, caressing her wrists.

_And I'm not the same old Selphie._

_How could I be?_


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter II**

They made their report to the grateful Duke, filed the paperwork back at Garden, and sat through the debriefing with Xu and Squall. Later, Selphie could recall barely any of it. The only memory that stuck was of the way the magic buzzed under her skin, a thousand new sensations pulling her mind in different directions as Irvine, Squall or Xu talked. She vaguely remembered how Squall had gripped the sides of his chair when Irvine relayed their discovery of the dying Sorceress.

Xu's eyes had been wary, even fearful. "So Selphie-"

"Yup. Succession. The whole thing happened so goddamn fast, I barely had time to blink before Sefie got her powers."

Irvine had patted her knee, then. She'd wondered why. Maybe he'd taken her silence to be nerves. Did he think she was embarrassed?

_Never,_ she thought. _I'll never feel shame for this. This is me, now._

Squall was saying something, but she tuned him out to listen to the crackles and sparks of energy that resounded inside her skull.

"Selphie," he repeated.

"Hm?"

"You need to tell us how you're feeling."

"Fine."

There was a white seabird, far-off, gliding through the sky outside the large window of the Commander's office. The way it soared and dipped stirred something inside Selphie. It felt like a memory at first, but gradually presented itself as a realization.

_I could do that,_ she thought with surprise. _I can fly. Any time I want._

She dragged her gaze back to the room. They were all watching her. Squall's eyes were half-lidded, his expression unreadable. Xu's intense frown was radiating a heat that would have melted a line of junior cadets in one fell swoop; Selphie paid it no heed. It was Irvine's face that irked her most. The wide eyes. The hesitant smile of encouragement. The _concern_.

She blinked back at them. "I feel fine."

* * *

She found out the next morning that Squall had removed her from the active SeeD roster for two weeks. He'd been saying something about "time to adjust", towards the end of their meeting. Probably. She hadn't really been listening. Selphie discovered that she didn't care. Her usual perpetual excitement for receiving her orders and learning what the next mission would be had dissipated entirely. She wandered about the Garden in a state of detachment, lost in the sea of sound and color that swirled, unfurled and transformed inside her. The dull predictability of external reality had little to offer in comparison.

She began to have the odd sensation of drifting away from people while they were talking to her. It was as though she was looking down from somewhere above, thinking how impossibly small everything looked. When that happened, the Garden and its inhabitants seemed barely bigger than a doll's house. Too small to contain her, now. She felt a tug at the edges of her mind, whispering new possibilities to her. Telling her that it didn't have to be this way. That her world need no longer be confined to Garden. And once the thought appeared, it swelled and grew, day by day.

Her Garden Square blog went untouched; she didn't even bother to log in. She left the Festival Committee without any fanfare, and responded to the members' pleas to return with a disengaged shrug. It seemed so meaningless now. Just a bunch of kids putting on a show to distract themselves from the fact they were child soldiers. Raised to kill for profit. How on earth had she let herself be so brainwashed? She'd been the proudest SeeD of all. And for what?

Rinoa's hug on hearing Selphie's news was the only interaction that cut through the thick wall that surrounded her. Rinoa clung to her tightly, and whispered in her ear, "I'm here for you. I always will be. Never forget that."

As the days passed, Selphie's numbness only intensified. Irvine knocked on her door every evening, eager to talk. Sometimes she half-listened, nodding, other times she brushed him off. The only person she felt any desire to spend time with was Rinoa. If only they could speak, Sorceress to Sorceress, without Squall or Irvine present. But Rinoa's eyes seemed to grow troubled every time Selphie attempted to share her excitement at the new world that was opening up within her.

Maybe it didn't matter. She didn't need Rinoa's advice. Selphie already knew what she had to do. The first step, anyway. She watched the library printer churn out the resignation form and snatched it from the paper tray, blowing on the fresh ink.

It was just as well, she thought as she scrawled her signature, that neither Zell nor Quistis were around. Zell had been assigned to oversee a training camp in Centra for the past six weeks, while Quistis was leading a mission in Esthar, for which Selphie was privately grateful. She had no interest in arguing with Quistis' inevitable lecture on why Selphie should remain a SeeD, nor to see Zell's stunned, disappointed face when he discovered she was leaving.

She hesitated over the dots in the 'i's, one in _Selphie_ , two in _Tilmitt_. Her trademark signature had always featured a daisy on top of the first 'i', and stars in the place of dots in her surname. A child's signature, really.

She wasn't a child, though, was she? She was a Sorceress.

Selphie clicked the pen and dotted the 'i's neatly, three sharp pinpricks of black ballpoint ink.

* * *

Squall held the document in both hands for a long time before he spoke.

"And you want to go for immediate severance? You know you won't be entitled to your lump-sum payout if you don't give three months' notice."

"I don't care about money. I just want to leave."

He laid it down carefully on the desk. "You didn't state your reason on here."

"Conflict of interest," she shrugged.

"How, exactly?"

"SeeDs were raised to destroy Sorceresses. Now I'm one myself."

"There's been no suggestion that you're a threat to Garden, Selphie. You're no more our enemy than Rinoa is."

Squall was rattled. She had been around him long enough to know what Rattled Squall looked like. The tight jaw, the twitch at his temple. Selphie wondered idly which he was more bothered about, the loss of a Rank A SeeD from his roster, or Selphie as a friend.

"I don't fit in here any more," she said.

"You should take a few days to consider this carefully, at least."

Selphie's eyes wandered over to the dark peaks of the Gaulg Mountain range, looming behind Squall at the window. "Nah, I'm good."

"Selphie-"

"I'm good, Commander."

What would it be like to fly over those mountains? To stand on the highest peak and channel the lightning from the sky? How would it feel when it merged with the etheric lightning that hummed under her skin?

He was still talking, but she didn't hear a word.

* * *

Irvine barged into her dorm room while she was removing her personal possessions and packing them up. Selphie was too distracted by the call of her magic to force him out. She carried on emptying the closet, then moved onto stripping the bed of the bright yellow sheets.

"I don't get it. SeeD was all you ever wanted."

She stuffed the sheets haphazardly into a plastic bag. "I just... don't feel like that anymore. I've got a different way of looking at things now. The world seems bigger, y'know?"

"Because of the magic? What does it change? Tell me, Sef. Help me understand."

"You'll never understand. You're a _man_." She threw him a disdainful glance as he sifted through a pile of her clothes. "I'm a Sorceress now, and... SeeD, Garden, it's all so small."

Selphie pulled a pair of green pajama bottoms out of Irvine's hands and rolled them up tightly, before shoving them into the canvas holdall on the floor. "I want... more. More than this."

"So what're you going to do? Where would you even go?"

She didn't answer, and started to bag up the contents of her desk. The nunchaku gave her pause, but she folded it carefully and slid it into the holdall. A Sorceress had no need for weapons. It was little more than a trinket to her now.

Selphie zipped up the holdall and shoved it into Irvine's arms. "Here y'are. Keep it."

"What am I supposed to do with your stuff? Pretty sure none of your bras will fit m-"

"Whatever you want. I don't need any of it."

Irvine opened and closed his mouth, then nodded in resignation. "I'll put it in storage for when you come back."

"Not much point. Toss it into the sea for all I care. It's just stuff."

"So why give it to me?"

"Thought you might want to have something to remind you of me. I know how you get. Sentimental."

"Wha-? Nope. No goddamn dice, Sefie." His mouth set into the thin, downward-curling line it always did when he was upset. "Don't you come out with any 'we'll never meet again' bullshit. 'Cause I won't hear it."

"Hear what you like. I'm done."

"You're done?" he echoed, dumbfounded. "That's... it?"

"Yeah. That's it." Something thawed in her for the briefest moment, and she stepped onto her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Irvine jerked back as if her lips had left a burn.

"No. You don't get to do this. I won't stand here and take a goodbye from you."

"I won't say it, then." She reached up to tip his cowboy hat. "See ya, Irvy."

He stood in the stripped-bare room, still clutching the bag of clothes, staring after her as she walked away.

* * *

"Squall?" Rinoa mumbled sleepily.

The tapping at the door had roused her from her doze on the sofa, Angelo sprawled across her thighs. She rubbed at her eyes. No, Squall wouldn't knock. That didn't make sense. He had a keycard to his own quarters.

She squinted at the clock. Ten-thirty. It was still too early for Squall. The Commander would be shuttered in his office still, glaring at his computer screen, and another night would pass with the barest minimum of intimacy with his girlfriend. He might put his arm around her while she slept, if she was lucky. Rinoa sighed.

"C'mon, girl." She lifted Angelo off her lap. "Let's see who it is."

She knew before she opened the door. A soft glow of magical aura was seeping slowly through the doorframe.

"Selphie. D'you want to come in?"

Selphie wordlessly walked past Rinoa, into the living area of the Commander's quarters. Angelo padded towards her, then stopped abruptly.

Selphie glanced down at the dog, eyes blank, and Angelo shrank away, confused. Rinoa knelt, placing a calming hand on the fur around her neck.

_I know, girl,_ she told Angelo silently. _I know she's different. We just have to show her that we're still here for her. No matter what._

"Did Squall tell you?"

Selphie's aura flickered as she spoke. Rinoa tried not to look at it. The fabric of Selphie's sorcery was in constant flux, and had been ever since her return from Dollet. It made Rinoa feel dizzy, almost nauseous.

"Tell me what?"

"I resigned today."

"Oh." This couldn't be good. "No, he didn't. He hasn't come back yet."

"It's you I wanted to talk to, not him." There was a thoroughly unfamiliar gleam in Selphie's eyes, and Rinoa had the unshakeable feeling that another person was somehow looking out of them. A slow shiver trickled down her spine.

"Come with me, Rin."

"Come with you... where?"

"I'm leaving Garden. Come with me."

The fervent excitement that lit up Selphie's face was infectious, and had Rinoa's teeth not been on edge, she might have been swayed by it.

"We could go anywhere. Do anything." She reached out both hands, and curled her fingers around Rinoa's wrists. "Team Witch. What d'you say?"

"Selphie, I... I can't ever leave Squall. You must know that already."

Selphie surveyed her dispassionately for longer than was comfortable, and withdrew her hands. "Thought you'd say something like that. Was worth a try, though."

She turned, and stretched out her arms above her head, the lazy strength of a leopard ready to hunt. Rinoa let out a held breath and rubbed her wrists gently. Selphie's magic was brimming over, its effervesce spilling into Rinoa's own aura of sorcery. She would need a moment to recover.

Selphie tossed her a backwards glance as she headed for the door, a smile laced with pity.

"If you ever want a different life, come and find me."

* * *

She left Garden that night, alone, unafraid, untethered to possessions or companions.

It was for the best, she realized. Nothing, and no-one, would limit her.

She was free.


	3. Chapter III

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter III**

Irvine sat on the wall of the Garden Quad, long legs dangling over the edge, reckless and unbothered by the yawning drop down to the ground, his back to the half-dismantled Garden Festival stage. He hated the goddamned sight of it. The stage screamed _Selphie_ to him. It stood for everything Selphie had loved, and everything she had suddenly, inexplicably lost.

Since that day in Dollet, he had watched with bewilderment as Selphie changed overnight from her effervescent, cheery self - Irvine's own personal ray of sunshine, he liked to think - to a detached, cynical person who didn't appear to give a Grat's ass about anything at all. And now, even worse, she was gone.

He hadn't sat moping about it for long, though. Maybe a day or two. After that, he focused his energy on trying to work out where the hell Selphie had gone _to._ Irvine contacted her friends in Trabia, who seemed utterly shocked to hear that Selphie had left SeeD. So that was a dead end. He made discreet inquiries in Dollet, wondering if the inherited magic had pulled Selphie back to Hasberry Castle. No luck there. The Duke, apparently delighted with SeeD's work, had already set about restoring the castle to its former glory. Irvine made sure his old contacts in Deling City, Timber and South Galbadia were told to prick their ears up to any gossip about an ex-SeeD Sorceress roaming about. He waited, and as the days passed without any word, he realized that he was done waiting.

Squall buzzed him into the Commander's office without meeting Irvine's eye. He hadn't looked Irvine in the eye since accepting Selphie's resignation, come to think of it. Which meant that Squall felt almost as bad about the whole thing as Irvine did.

He propped his ankles up on Squall's desk, taking less enjoyment than usual in the scowl that action elicited. "So, Commander. Thing is, I want to take some personal leave."

Squall reached forward and pushed Irvine's heels off the edge of the desk. "Is this about Selphie?"

"Yeah. I want to go lookin' for her."

"Selphie's coming back. Just give her time." Squall shook his head and returned to the computer screen. "I won't grant leave for now, Irvine. I need you on the roster."

"But-"

"No. That's my answer."

Irvine knew right away that Squall wouldn't budge. He sighed dramatically, to no response, and swept out of Squall's office to find Rinoa.

She was in the library, crouching on the floor next to one of the stacks, running her finger along the spines of the bottom row in the History section. Irvine watched as she stopped at a thick, cloth-bound volume titled _The Fall of Centra,_ and slid it carefully out of the shelf.

"Irvine, I know you're looming over me. No-one else's shadow has a hat like yours," she said without turning round.

He crouched down to join her. "Think there's anythin' in here about where sorceresses go when they're pissed off?"

"She wasn't pissed off."

"What the hell's going on with her, then? She wasn't even Sefie anymore."

Something in his words made Rinoa flinch, and she straightened up, clutching the heavy tome to her chest. He stood too, towering over her.

"Don't say that."

"S'true though. It was like someone crept into her bed and stole her skin."

Rinoa frowned and drew her arms more tightly around the library book. "I think it's a temporary reaction, to the shock. It's hard to explain how much it changes you. She... She'll be back, Irvine. Squall's certain of it."

"What about you? You 'certain' too?"

She gazed into the mid-distance for a few moments, then nodded. "Yeah. I think she'll adjust to her powers, and come back. We've got to trust her."

_Trust her,_ he thought. _That's the problem. I trust Sefie. I don't trust whatever's gotten inside her._

* * *

The first night was dark, moonless. The first night of her freedom.

She headed west, and then south, to the lands that called out to her, saving most of her traveling for the dead of night. With the sky pitch black and no soul in sight, she could soar further, faster each time, laughing in delight at the forceful headwinds that rushed against her skin.

Her wings, gray, spiky little things, beat harder and stronger as they remembered their purpose, and she reveled in it. Wings that had been dormant for a lifetime, long before the birth of this new vessel. The one that had been called Selphie Tilmitt, once, but no longer. Oh, she was still there, little Selphie, somewhere underneath; confused, excited, still so drunk on the first flush of magic that the seeds of fear and regret were barely planted. She would notice them soon, perhaps. They usually did.

And when that happened, she would be crushed. The magic was always stronger than the vessel.

Always.

Her feet touched the ground, old familiar earth that had welcomed her in a different life, so far in the past now. How many vessels had it been since then?

_I am here_ , she said, sinking her fingernails into the wet grass, and the land sang its ancient song in jubilation at the return of its cherished daughter.

* * *

Irvine lay sprawled on his dorm bed, Selphie's old faded yellow sundress in his hands. She was right about one thing. He _was_ sentimental. He brought the fabric close to his nose and inhaled tentatively. It smelled like her. Floral soap and... Selphie-ness.

_Don't cry, you goddamn fool,_ he told himself, blinking, as he folded the garment carefully and slid it into his bedside drawer.

He almost jumped out of his skin at the aggressive rapping on the door. Irvine plastered a smile on his face as he crossed the room, and swung the door open, his arms wide in welcome.

"Quisty! How was Esthar?"

She wasn't fooled by his grin. Mind you, she never was. Quistis stood expressionless in the doorway, her icy eyes boring into his.

"It's not often I'm blessed with such a beautiful woman visitin' my quarters. What can I do you for?"

Quistis let out a cry of rage and tore Irvine's hat off his head, throwing it down to the floor as she pushed past him, the door slamming in her wake.

"Don't give me any of your _shit,_ Irvine Kinneas!"

Irvine readjusted his hair and gave her his best charming smile. "If you're tryin' to seduce me, can we slow it down a notch? I've never been a big fan of aggression in foreplay."

Quistis strode over to where Irvine's Exeter rifle was propped against the wall, seized it and aimed it at the floor. "Knock off your ridiculously labored ladies-man act right now, or I swear to you, I will _shoot your hat._ " She released the safety catch on the rifle and glared at him menacingly.

_Yikes._ If she was mad enough to take his stetson hostage, she was seriously mad. Irvine held up both hands and backed slowly towards his bed.

"Let the hat go, Quisty."

"I'm warning you, Kinneas. No funny business."

"Understood, ma'am." He threw in the SeeD salute for good measure.

She sighed, clicked the safety back on the rifle and returned it to the wall. Irvine couldn't help appreciating the care with which she did so. _Even when she's angry, she always knows how to treat a fella's weapon with respect,_ he thought, and smirked as a lewd double meaning to that sentiment occurred to him. He was about to voice it when one glance from Quistis told him that his hat, and possibly his kneecaps, would never be the same again if he did.

"What's this I hear about Selphie leaving?" she demanded. "And you and Squall just _letting_ her go? Are you men or moogles?"

"What choice did we have? My opinion's never made any difference to Sefie, and Squall can't force her to stay. You know as well as anyone that SeeDs have the right to resign at any time. Gar-"

"Yes yes, Garden Code Article 5, line 1. I've just had Squall quoting it at me. You're as useless as each other. Did you even try talking to her? _Listening_ to her?"

"Course I did!"

"Then you should have-"

Irvine cut her off with a louder tone of voice than he was used to hearing from himself. "Quisty, has it escaped your attention that I've loved her my whole damn life?"

She stared at him as he bent to pick up his hat and jammed it firmly back on his head.

"Has, hasn't it? Well, I _do_ love her. More than anythin'. So I don't need you lecturin' me."

"What are you going to do about it, then? She's gone."

"I've got a plan, okay? I'm gonna find her. I've put the feelers out. I'm not sittin' on my ass doin' nothin'."

"Anything so far?"

"No, but-"

"Then I'll help in any way I can." She took a seat on his bed and looked up at him expectantly. "Now tell me exactly what happened in Hasberry Castle. Don't leave any details out."

Irvine recounted the mission as best he could, and found Quistis staring at him in horror at the end.

"And the castle was abandoned around the fall of the Holy Dollet Empire?"

"That's what the Duke said, yeah."

"Then we have to assume that the Sorceress was lying there, half-dead, alone, for a whole century."

"Well, I guess."

Quistis' face was white, even under the light Esthar tan she'd picked up during her mission. "Irvine. Can you even imagine how broken her mind must have been?"

"I mean, it sucks, but..."

" _Think!_ All that pain and despair, a hundred years of it, flowing into Selphie! How on earth do you think that will affect her?"

_Shit. Shit._ "But- But Rinoa was fine after she took on Adel's powers-"

Quistis gave a heavy sigh. "I have a feeling that none of us know how hard Rinoa works to make it seem like she's 'fine'."

"You don't think she's okay?"

"No, I don't. But that's between her and Squall. It's not our business. The point is, Selphie's taking all this on alone, and we don't know where she is."

Irvine stared at the wall behind her. _Why didn't you let me be your knight, Sef? I would've- You know I would've..._

"We have to take action, Irvine. Quickly."

He agreed with her, and let her talk until she was ready to leave. Quistis' idea of a plan mostly seemed to involve asking Squall to take charge, to send squads of SeeDs out looking for Selphie. Irvine didn't bother interrupting to tell her that Squall's mind was already made up. His thoughts were racing too fast. This was down to him now. He'd do the job of Selphie's knight whether she wanted it or not.

He crashed back onto his bed after Quistis left. Irvine was so deeply buried in his thoughts that it took a while for him to register the faint buzzing that emanated from under his mattress.

Leaping off the bed, he shoved his arm in the tight gap to wrestle out his old G-Army comms device, untraceable and so far undetected by Garden security. It was his one remaining link to Galbadia and had remained a complete secret, even from his friends. Even from Selphie. Although Irvine had taken the SeeD exam and pledged allegiance to Garden in the past year, he wasn't stupid. A man needed to keep his options open. Always.

He flipped the receiver open. The ID sign of the incoming call belonged to Jordy, a former member of Irvine's G-Army regiment. Jordy had been medically discharged after sustaining injury in the Battle of the Gardens, and was now a traffic cop in Deling with a few less-than-legal sidelines on the go.

"Kinneas. Go ahead."

"Hey." Jordy's deep voice sounded breathy, the thrum of a car engine in the background. "The little matter you asked me to keep my eyes open for? There might be a development."

Irvine's fingertips, suddenly sweaty, slipped against the handset. "Whereabouts?"

"Abandoned temple in the boonies of Timber, out towards Shenand. Old Hyne cult. I can give you coordinates. Got a pen?"

Irvine held the comms unit against his ear with a hunched shoulder as he rifled through the drawer of his desk for a notebook and pen. "What information have you heard? And what sources?"

"Sources are local farmers and a bunch of kids. The gist of it was... wild-eyed girl, mighty pissed when anyone comes in the temple, throwing blue lightning around. Looks cute, but scares the shit out of the locals."

Jordy reeled off the coordinates, and Irvine jotted them down.

"I'll check it out. Thanks, Jordy."

"Pleasure. Take care out there, Irv."

Irvine terminated the call, and stared down at the numbers on the pad. At last, he had something real. Something concrete that could lead him to Selphie.

"Blue lightnin', huh?" he said out loud. "Hold still, darlin'. I'm on my way."

He folded up the paper, placed it in his pocket, and set about getting himself ready for the road.


	4. Chapter IV

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter IV**

Irvine switched off the engine of the blue sedan he'd rented on his arrival at Timber. After three hours of driving through the drizzling rain, he was deep in the farmland of the Lanker Plains, with the gentle rising slope of Shenand Hill visible to the west under the angry gray clouds. The derelict temple he suspected Selphie had made into her base was another twenty minutes' drive away; this was the nearest farm.

He didn't have to look hard to find signs of its occupants. A boy, around ten years old by Irvine's reckoning, was huddled up in a too-large raincoat, kneeling by the sheepdog's kennel. He watched Irvine as he stepped out of the car and strode over to the fence.

Irvine folded his arms on top of the fence and gave the boy a lazy grin.

"Whassat that gun for?" asked the boy, pointing at the rifle strapped to Irvine's shoulder.

"Shootin' things. Your ma or pa around, kid?"

The boy shook his head. "My grandpa is, though."

"Great. Go'n get him for me?"

While the boy darted across the yard to the farmhouse, Irvine occupied himself with making faces at the sheepdog, who stared solemnly back at him. _Guess I'm not a threat,_ he thought, when the dog didn't move a muscle.

A bearded, stocky man in black rain-boots and a waxed rain hat had emerged from the house, eyeing Irvine with an evident degree of suspicion. Irvine tipped his stetson as the farmer and his grandson walked over to his spot at the fence.

"Army, are you?" said the man gruffly.

Irvine reached into his pocket and flashed his expired G-Army ID card, providing enough time for the man to nod at Irvine's somber, hatless photo, but not quite long enough for his eyes to travel to the long-passed renewal date written in small print at the bottom.

"Sir, I heard there's been some trouble at the Temple of Hyne," Irvine said.

The boy looked up at him, interested. "You gonna shoot the she-demon, mister?"

_She-demon? Hell's bells, Sefie._ "I heard it was a girl."

The farmer scowled, his thick brown eyebrows knitting together. "That ain't no girl. Ain't never seen no girl lookin' like that."

"Like what?"

"You'll see soon enough, if you're goin' there. But you'd be a damn fool to go alone." He stomped back towards the house, pulling the boy by the sleeve of his raincoat.

Irvine watched them go. "What's my darlin' been up to?" he asked the sheepdog. Finding the response unsatisfactory, he sighed and went to start up the car.

* * *

The Temple of Hyne stood at the foot of Shenand Hill, facing east towards the sea that lashed at faraway cliffs. Its half-crumbling walls were built of the white-gray stone of Centran architecture, many centuries older than the Dolletian style that dominated the Galbadian continent. These rocks must have been brought here by boat from the South, Irvine mused. Why the ancient Centrans had seen fit to build a temple here was beyond him. There was nothing around for miles and miles.

It was an odd mix of feelings he had now, standing under the great arched entrance. On the one hand, if she was really in there, he was only seconds away from reuniting with Selphie. On the other... she might, Irvine conceded, not be overjoyed to see him.

_But hey,_ he thought as the sound of his boots rang across the cracked flagstones. _It's Selphie. I can talk her round._

"Sefie?" he called out, his voice resounding in the gloom.

A sphere of bright, blue-white light fizzed and popped, and he squinted to make out what was behind it, then he saw that she was holding it in her hand.

The ball of light winked away, and she was walking towards him. Except...

For once, Irvine was speechless.

She had _cleavage,_ for a start. Selphie's breasts were pushed up impossibly high by the crimson bodice of a tight-fitting gown that was cut away at the front, six inches above her knees, and ballooned out long at the back. Her eyes were dark and smoky, and her hair, stripped of its usual bouncing curls, flowed wildly over her shoulders and trickled onto the curve of her bust. Then there were the _boots_. Selphie had always worn the kind of clumpy, sheepskin-lined snow boots beloved of Trabian girls: practical, but not at all alluring. These boots were laced, high-heeled, and made from shiny black leather, stretching enticingly up to her thighs.

"Sefie, uh..." he stammered, eventually. "You've gone all... sexy."

She came closer. "Have I? Do you like it, cowboy?"

It was not Selphie's voice. Those were Selphie's vocal cords, to be sure, but the voice had an odd inflection, some long-dead accent wholly unfamiliar to Irvine's ears.

"Well, you look very nice," he said truthfully, keenly aware of a sudden increase in circulation due south of his belt buckle. "You just... you don't look like my Sefie, that's all."

"Yours?" she spat with contempt. "Whoever said I was _yours,_ boy? Such arrogance!" Selphie turned and walked to the stone altar in the center of the chamber, and Irvine followed helplessly.

"Why here? What is there for you in this place?" he asked.

She placed her hands on the altar, without turning to look at him. "I told you I see the world in a different way, now. Where the magic leads, I follow. Magic calls to magic, did you know that?"

The temple seemed darker, somehow, and Irvine slowly realized that there was a visible cloud of dark-colored magic swirling around her. It moved faster, in a vortex, and it took his brain several moments to register what he was looking at: a Draw point. An unimaginably huge Draw point that encompassed the entire inner chamber of the temple.

This was not good. Black flecked with streaks of red, it looked like no Draw point he'd ever seen.

"What the hell is this? Ultima? Meteor?"

"Nothing so limited. This is raw magic. The purest form. No man could ever Draw it. But I..."

She turned to face him then, zeal and passion in her eyes, and he'd have marveled at her beauty if he wasn't so damn freaked out.

"...I am the blood of Hyne."

Strands of the magic seeped away from the Draw point and flowed into Selphie's fingers, visibly coursing through her until her eyes flashed reddish black, and ragged gray wings fought their way free from her bare shoulders.

"Sefie," he protested weakly.

"Hyne provides for all His Daughters. Even after His temples have been abandoned, he never abandons those of His blood." Her voice had changed again; it sounded like five, ten or twenty women were speaking at the same time.

He started to back away from her, and then something strange happened. She fell to her knees, gasping, and when she looked up at him in horror, her eyes were green again.

Irvine ran to her, and she clutched at his hands.

"Irvy, you've got to leave. Just go."

"No way in hell am I gonna-"

Selphie screwed up her eyes. "I think I'm _her_ ," she whispered.

"What? Who?"

"Ultimecia. I think I stay like this and end up becoming her. That's how she came to be. It's the only explanation."

He would have laughed if she hadn't looked so terrified. "That's ridiculous, Sefie. You aren't Ultimecia. Not in a month of Sundays. You're nothin' like her."

"Nothing?" she echoed blankly, and her eyes swam with color, the cruelty returning to her face. "You would doubt me?" she barked, and Selphie's voice was gone now. "What do you know of my true power? I am more than you will ever know. I am all, and I am nothingness. I am the End! I am the _End of Days!_ "

The wings carried her aloft, and she was glaring down at him from above, the black-red magic massing at her hands, her head, her eyes.

" _The End of all your days has come!_ "

He was no longer in the temple. He was kneeling in a picture-perfect field of flowers, yellow butterflies swarming against his neck and mouth, the pollen-filled sky choking him, and he could not fight it. The flowers and the ground beneath were swallowing him up, and he could feel the bonds between the atoms of his body straining to tear apart from each other. This... was it. Every fragment of reality that made up Irvine Kinneas was preparing to disintegrate.

"Sefie... My darlin'..." he croaked.

It took the last of his strength, but he had to get through to her. Not to stop her from killing him; it was almost certainly too late for that. No, she needed to know that he loved her. That he forgave her. If that was the final thing he would ever do, it'd be worth it.

Then Selphie was there, her face in front of his, horrified, tear-streaked, the smoky eye make-up running down her cheeks.

"No... No! Irvy!"

A huge blast followed her scream, and he was thrown back in the air, his body smashing hard against the flagstones, and he crawled towards the light, unthinking, uncomprehending, knowing only that he was still clinging onto his life, and goddammit, he'd cling on until he couldn't.

The light was around him now, the cold raindrops on his face. He tried to move, to breathe, and was dismayed to find that he could do neither. Unfamiliar hands were dragging his legs, and another pair of hands were pumping at his chest. Lips pressed against his - _not a woman's_ , he thought with disappointment - and another compression. Lips again, hot breath forcing its way into him, and-

He spluttered, gasped, and the compressions stopped.

By the skin of his teeth, Irvine was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Places I never thought I'd go with a fic #1: the S=U theory. And yet here it is. (Allegedly).
> 
> *Disclaimer: I love Selphie and she's totally not Ultimecia


	5. Chapter V

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter V**

The room swam and blurred a few times before it snapped into focus, and when it did, Irvine thanked his lucky stars: he was in the Garden's Infirmary. He registered the sharp drag of a needle in his flesh when he tried to move his arm. _On a drip. Ouch. Got it._ Irvine felt a smile creep across his face when he saw that his stetson had been placed carefully on the table next to the bed. If he still had his hat, the world was still anchored. Things couldn't be that bad. Why was he here, anyway..?

Then it came to him: Selphie's contorted face and the field of flowers that had almost choked the life from his body, and he let out a long groan of despair.

That was enough to bring Doctor Kadowaki into the room, with a diminutive young woman hot at her heels, the last face Irvine had expected to see, and his mouth fell open.

"Elle?" he struggled to say around the tongue depressor that the doctor had inserted in his mouth, and she tutted down at him.

"You know the drill, Mr. Kinneas. I take your vitals first, then you can descend into chit-chat."

Irvine acquiesced and blinked weakly at the light she shone into his pupils. Ellone pulled a chair up next to the bed and watched him, her hands clasped together under her chin.

"Feeling okay?"

Kadowaki gave him a warning look, so he nodded wordlessly.

"Glad to hear it. Squall'll be along in a minute. You're in a whole heap of trouble, Irvy."

 _Great,_ he thought. Kadowaki stood back, checked the reading on the bedside monitor, and gently pulled out the drip.

"I'm impressed, Mr. Kinneas. You've bounced back faster than any of us thought. That doesn't give you a license to walk out of here just yet, though." She turned to Ellone. "I'll let the Commander know our patient is well enough for a dressing-down. You stay and make sure he doesn't try to get out of bed, please."

"Understood," replied Ellone. She adjusted the shawl around her shoulders and gave Irvine a mocking half-glare.

He ignored her expression, and stared at her in bafflement as Kadowaki left. "I don't get it. Why are you here?"

"How d'you think we worked out where you were? You didn't let anyone know where you were sneaking off to. Squall had to ask me to use my... you know. My ability."

"But how'd you get from Esthar so quickly?"

"I didn't get here 'quickly'. Squall called me after you went missing, and I sent him to your mind while we were on the phone. As soon as we figured out where you were heading, he sent SeeDs to get you out of there. I took a transport from Esthar later that day. I've been here since yesterday morning."

Irvine tried to count up the days in his head, and gave up in a muddle of confusion. "So... when did I..."

"You've been unconscious for two days, Irvine," said Squall from the doorway, his arms folded, his eyes hard.

The heavy clump of the Commander's boots rang out against the Infirmary floor as he crossed over to the bedside and looked down at Irvine, stern-faced. "You should have told us where you were going. If it hadn't been for Elle, you'd be dead by now."

"Yeah." Irvine fumbled a quick salute. "I mean, apologies, Commander. I thought you'd order me not to go. Tell me to let Selphie figure things out for herself. Somethin' like that."

Squall closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if struggling to keep on top of his composure. " _'I didn't tell you because I wanted to break orders_ ' is not the kind of defense I should be hearing from a SeeD. Don't go AWOL on me again. Ever."

Irvine was about to offer a more sincere apology, when his brain started to protest, dredging up a particular memory in Irvine's defense."Hold up one second. You ain't really got a leg to stand on here, Squall."

Squall's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

Irvine pulled himself up to a sitting position in the bed, ignoring the screams of his stiff muscles. "Said the guy who went AWOL, as frickin' Commandermay I add,to abduct a patient from the Infirmary and piggyback her across the world's longest bridge. It's fine when it's _your_ darlin', but not when it's mine, huh?"

Two faint pink spots appeared on Squall's cheeks. "I like to think I've matured a little since then."

"Well, _I_ haven't. And I sure as hell don't intend to."

Squall returned Irvine's defiant glare with a fierce one of his own, and they were locked into a stare-off for however many seconds passed until a loud chair scrape and noise of frustration from Ellone cut the silence. Irvine was fairly sure he was winning, for what it was worth.

She reached forward and gently pushed on Irvine's shoulder until he relented and lay down again. "You're supposed to stay horizontal, remember, coma boy. And stop it, the pair of you. We need to work out how to help Selphie, not waste time bickering with each other."

Squall turned the brunt of his glare onto the bedside monitor, and Irvine, feeling that the tension had been lifted, sunk his head back onto the pillow and let Selphie fill his mind. Selphie, as he had last seen her. Terrifying and terrified all at once.

"She tried to 'The End' me," he said out loud. "Almost managed it. It was... worse than anything I've ever... Damn."

Neither Squall nor Ellone spoke, so he carried on. "Y'know, I... Always laughed when I saw her use it in battle. Thought it was _cute_. No violence, just flowers, 'n fluffy clouds 'n... Goddamn." He stared up at the Infirmary's ceiling. _How can a person be so wrong?_

The fact that Selphie had always harbored such a devastating power, even pre-sorcery... He remembered what she had said, the pure fear in her eyes.

"Did you hear what she told me?"

"About Ultimecia?" said Squall sharply. "Yes."

"You agree that it's a crock of chocobo shit, right?"

Squall did not seem to miss the note of pleading in Irvine's voice, and his expression softened a little. "Selphie is not Ultimecia. Selphie will never be Ultimecia. Consider the matter closed."

Ellone leaned back in her chair. "I think she really believes it, though. Poor Selphie."

"Can you get in her head?" Irvine asked.

"I already tried. It was... messed up." Ellone blinked into the middle distance, and Irvine wondered what horrors she had seen. "I couldn't stay for more than a few moments. I think Selphie's still in there somewhere, but she's overwhelmed. I don't know how she's going to get out."

"The whole frickin' temple is a Draw point," he said, remembering the whirling black vortex with Selphie at its center.

"I noticed," Squall said shortly.

"Must be the reason they built it there in the first place. I couldn't understand why she'd gone to the middle of nowhere." Irvine shifted uncomfortably in the bed as more memories trickled back. The hands pressing at his chest, the rough lips against his, breathing the life back into his lungs. "Who came and got me? I don't even remember seein' their faces."

"Jiang and Winston. You probably don't know them. Rank 7 and 8, new grads this year. They were the closest SeeDs I could get hold of, stationed in South Timber on a security mission. No-one from Garden would've been able to reach you in time."

"I'll find 'em and thank 'em when Kadowaki lets me out." Irvine's brow creased. "Wait. They didn't go in the temple, did they?"

"Winston wanted to, but I vetoed it. Told him he was twenty pay grades too low for that kind of danger."

"Damn right." Irvine lapsed into silence for a while, until a sly idea popped into his mind.

"So. How was it for you?"

Squall frowned. "What?"

"Being inside me. You're the first guy to have had the privilege, y'know."

Attempting to annoy Squall using well-placed homoerotic innuendo was one of Irvine's minor hobbies. His main goal was to provoke a few curse words or insults, or at least a scowl. So far, Squall had been totally impervious to all his efforts. In fact, the only person ever to react was Selphie, either with loud guffaws or scandalized open-jawed shock.

...Selphie. Goddamn, he missed her.

Squall ignored Irvine's bait as usual. "It was a marginally less stupid experience than being in Laguna's head. And I do mean _marginally._ "

"I'll take that. 'Less stupid than the President of Esthar'. Pretty high praise, all considered." Irvine folded his arms behind his head and grinned, leaning back against the headrest. "So you prefer being inside me to being inside your pops. Good to know."

The side of Squall's mouth twitched. "Glad you're feeling better, Irvine."

As soon as the door closed behind Squall, Ellone smacked Irvine sharply across the knee.

"Ow!"

"You really are disgusting sometimes."

"Got a reaction out of him, though. That's a first." Irvine smiled in self-satisfaction. Cracks were appearing in Commander Leonhart's armor at last. He snickered to himself. _Cracks. I could use that one next time._

"I honestly don't know how Selphie tolerates you."

"She doesn't, most of the time."

Ellone clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Have you really not worked out why Squall's so mad? Because he was worried about you, you great big lump of stupid."

"He was?"

"I was inside your mind with him. I could feel how frantic he was. And so was I. We thought we were watching you die."

"Huh. Didn't really think about it like that," Irvine admitted, and realized how very tired Ellone looked. He wondered how many hours she'd spent by his bed, waiting for him to wake up. "Sorry," he added in a quiet voice.

"Mm." Ellone's gaze was directed towards the window.

"Elle," he said with more force. "We're gonna get her back. Right?"

"Right." She met his eyes and gave a firm nod. "Irvy, you know I once took Squall into Rinoa's head, when she was possessed by Ultimecia?"

"Yeah, I heard about that. You showed him Rin beating the crap out of me, right?"

Ellone's lips curved into a smug smile. "It was well-deserved, as I recall."

"Hey, I had a plan," he protested. "I was gonna take Rin to safety, then bust 'em out of prison myself. I didn't know Rin much yet back then, didn't realize how much she-"

She held out a hand to cut him off. "Never mind about all that. What I'm saying is, I know what Ultimecia's mental presence feels like. I'd know it again in an instant. And Selphie... She's not Ultimecia. I promise."

"You don't need to tell me," he said staunchly, even as a tiny fragment of relief snagged and released somewhere inside him.

"I know, sweetie." Ellone patted his arm, and he was glad she was there.

* * *

It was three more days before Doctor Kadowaki signed Irvine out, not for any lack of asking on his part. Kadowaki informed him that he'd given her fifty extra gray hairs by the time he left.

"Glad to be of service, doc," he grinned as he pushed his hat down on his head.

"If I wasn't such a stickler to my oath, I would've used the sedative a lot more liberally, Mr. Kinneas," she said as she tapped away at her keyboard. "Try to be several orders of magnitude less annoying next time."

He barely had the chance to stretch his legs around Garden before being called to a meeting in Squall's office, where Rinoa was standing by the desk, waiting for him.

Squall looked up from the computer monitor and brushed the hair from his eyes. "I've spoken to Edea and Cid," he said by way of greeting. His face was drawn, Irvine noticed.

"It goes without saying that we all want an outcome that doesn't involve terminating Selphie. We know that Edea passed her powers onto Rinoa without dying. I want to find out if there's a way to remove Selphie's sorcery without killing her. Since there's a precedent for it, it stands to reason there's a chance it can be repeated." He glanced at Rinoa. "We need to talk to Odine."

Rinoa wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Ugh. Okay. I'll go to Esthar."

Squall gave a nod in acknowledgment. "Irvine, you'll be going too. I don't trust Odine at all. He is _not_ to be left alone with Rinoa for even a moment, understood? I'd go myself if I could, but I need to stay at Garden. There's always the chance that Selphie might choose to attack us here. So you'll have to protect Rinoa in my place."

Rinoa crossed her arms, offended. " _Squall_. I can take care of myself."

"I'm well aware of that. I want to avoid the diplomatic consequences of having to scrape bits of dead scientist off the ceiling. There's less likelihood of the situation escalating if you have a third party present. And Irvine has a stake in this too. He needs to be there."

Squall's eyes met Irvine's then, and Irvine had the feeling Squall was trying to give him a meaningful stare, but he couldn't decipher it. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

Squall sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Rin, could you give us a moment?"

"Of course." She glanced at Irvine, another heavy-laden look that he quite couldn't make sense of, and left the office.

Squall curled his fingers around each other, his face tilted down towards his desk. "You probably know what I'm about to tell you."

"Sure as hell don't, Commander."

"Irvine... I'm sending you with Rinoa because you'll be there when she confronts Selphie. You're the Plan B, if Rin can't... If we can't save Selphie."

"Plan B?"

"You'll be the one to end it."

The seconds ticked by as the full weight of Squall's words hit Irvine, and he leapt out of his chair.

"Me shootin' the woman I love is Plan fuckin' B? What the hell, Squall?" Irvine slammed both palms on the Commander's desk. "I won't hurt her. I _can't._ How can you even ask me?"

Squall looked back at him solemnly. "You love Selphie. Right?"

"Of course I do. With every last piece of me. I could never-"

"Then this is your burden, Irvine. I don't think it matters that you're not her Knight." Squall pushed back from the desk and crossed to the window, his back to Irvine. "When you love a Sorceress, you have to prepare yourself for the day you might have to... end her suffering. Me and Rinoa, we... We agreed that if she ever turns, it'll be me who... No-one else. She was clear about that. And if it ever comes to that, I'll do it. I will. I have to."

"Squall..." Irvine trailed off, finding no words.

"I could send someone else. If that's what you want. But if it's you, you'll know that you did all you could to make it... quick. Make it the best it can be. If someone else ends it, you'll always wonder. How it happened, how she felt..."

Squall's voice was heavy, and it was clear he was talking about Rinoa as much as Selphie. Irvine wrestled his hat off his head and tossed it onto the empty chair behind him. He understood now, to his disgust. He couldn't let anyone else take Selphie's life. There was only one person who could do it with complete and total love, and it was him.

"Goddamn it all," he said, with feeling.

"Yeah."

"It fuckin' sucks."

"Yeah," Squall's echo was barely audible. "It does."


	6. Chapter VI

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter VI**

Rinoa felt a chill sweep across the back of her neck the moment she stepped through the automatic doors to the lobby of O-Lab. There was a distinctive smell to the place: a mix of antiseptic cleaning fluid, hot machinery, and some sort of synthetic mintiness that set her teeth on edge. Perhaps it was a lingering memory, embedded in her subconscious. Rinoa had been comatose the entire time that Odine had kept her here for observations many months before, but her nasal receptors seemed to recognize the place well enough.

She had stopped mid-stride without realizing. Irvine's hand pressed lightly on her shoulder.

"Need a moment first?" he said in a low tone.

"No. Let's do what we're here for." She pushed forward to the reception desk, and they were ushered into a waiting room, the data-panels on its walls flickering with fast-moving strings of numbers.

It was not long before Odine bustled into the room, his black eyes glittering with excitement. "Sorceress Rinoa! Vat a great honor. It has been too long. _Much_ too long." He reached out to grasp her hands, and she froze.

"The honor's all ours, Doctor." Irvine stepped to Rinoa's side and smiled pleasantly, the warning in his eyes forceful enough to make Odine shrivel back.

"The President haz told me some nonsense about your request. He iz always talking nonsense; this iz his way. Please, explain the details yourselves."

Rinoa paused to let Irvine speak first, but he did not, so she launched into a summary of Selphie's unexpected transformation, her attack on Irvine, and the question of whether Selphie's magic could be subdued by an external force.

Odine, who had been nodding along to her words, began to pace in a tight circle. "Hmm. Yes, zis may be possible."

"You think so?"

"You are ze Sorceress. I am not. You can see ze magic. _Feel_ ze magic. I can only theorize. But you may be able to look inside her mind and pull ze magic out. Yes, I think so. You are a strong Sorceress. Zis Tilmitt girl, she is unstable, crazy. She will not be able to stop you, I think."

Irvine's whole body had tensed up at the word 'crazy', and Rinoa discreetly leaned against his arm. _I know, I know. But we have to stay calm,_ she thought, wishing his mind was available to her in the way Squall's was.

"But how? How would I do it?" she asked.

Odine stopped pacing, and fixed her with a bright stare. "When you access your own magic, you 'see' it in your mind, iz this correct?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"And then you pull on zat magic until it comes out. Very much like ze Draw process, no?"

"I... I never thought of it in that way."

Odine grinned, baring his stubby little teeth. "Zis is not your fault. Zis is because you do not have ze Great Odine's mind." He tapped the side of his head obnoxiously. "Let us return to my point. You are accustomed to Drawing magic from an adversary in battle, yes?"

"Well, of course."

"There. You have ze answer." He folded his arms, and bobbed up and down.

Rinoa stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. "You think I can just _Draw_ all her magic out of her, as if it was a dozen Firagas?"

"The process is ze same. Only ze order of magnitude iz different. Yes, I believe zis is how you received your own powers, Sorceress Rinoa."

"Me?" she protested. "But I didn't-"

"No, no, not yourself. Ultimecia switched her consciousness from Edea to you, using my amazing Junction Machine, and then she Drew Edea's powers into you." Odine snapped his fingers. "Just like zat."

"I... Wow. I guess it makes sense, but..." Rinoa ran her fingertips around the two silver rings threaded on the chain at her throat, Squall's Griever, and her mother's wedding band. She blinked at Odine, still unconvinced.

Irvine adjusted his hat, frowning. "So why doesn't that happen to Sorceresses all the time? If their powers can be Drawn so easily?"

Odine tutted at him. "'Easily'. I did not say zis. No, only an exceptionally powerful Sorceress could do zis. Ultimecia was exceptionally powerful. Sorceress Rinoa is her heir, through Edea's powers. And let us not forget that she is also ze heir of Adel. Therefore, Sorceress Rinoa is exceptionally- _exceptionally_ powerful. Miss Tilmitt stands no chance."

The doctor turned his face back to Rinoa, eyes gleaming with admiration, and she had a sudden desire to take a long, hot shower, to scrub the places his greedy gaze had touched with a thick lather of Dolletian soap.

"If I try..." she began. "Will it hurt her?"

"Zat, I cannot say. It iz unlikely to kill her." He waved a dismissive hand. "Zis is sufficient for your purposes, no?"

Rinoa's eyes slid to meet Irvine's. His were stony, hard. Cold.

"How likely is ' _unlikely_ '?" he asked, in a tone of voice Rinoa knew was dangerous.

Odine shrugged. "Zis is not a precise matter. You vant statistics, you go to a mathematician. You vant magical theory, you come to Odine."

That was the best they could get out of him; there was no further guarantee to be had. Rinoa and Irvine left O-Lab under a blanket of heavy silence, which Irvine only broke once they had reached the grand entrance of the Presidential Palace.

"Think he's right?" he said, his expression grim.

"I don't know. It might be our only shot. I..." She swallowed. "I won't hurt her intentionally, Irvine. You must know that."

"'Course. Neither will I."

* * *

Ward greeted them by the main elevator and led them to Laguna's office, his vast form towering high above Rinoa as he walked. She could not help finding Ward comical in the traditional Esthari robes of the political class, the way the white silk stretched almost to tearing point across his broad shoulders, the green hat perched on the top of his balding head. No wonder Laguna eschewed it all for a loosely-buttoned shirt and comfortable sandals. Ward gestured at her and Irvine to enter the room, and shuffled off down the corridor.

Laguna sprung up from his desk immediately to meet them at the door. "Was he any help?" A worried furrow spread across the President's brow. "Kept thinkin' I should've gone with you. It's just, me'n Odine, we always end up in an argument, and... I didn't want to get in the way, you know?"

He was half-babbling, and Rinoa wondered why he was so nervous. Laguna barely knew Selphie; it was unlikely to be out of concern for her. More likely, she reasoned, he was anxious to prove himself to be of use to Squall. This was the first official contact between Garden and Esthar in several months, and she was unsure whether there had been any unofficial communications between Squall and his father in the meantime. Squall disliked it when she brought up the subject, and Rinoa had decided to let it drop. She would not be happy, after all, if Squall took it upon himself to badger her to reunite with Caraway. This was a matter for father and son.

"Dr. Odine gave us some practical suggestions," she replied. "It's the best we could have hoped for. We're grateful to you, Mr. President."

"Ah, now, Rinoa, you really must start callin' me Laguna. Seein' as we're almost family." He flashed her a wide smile, and she returned it, even though she knew Squall would be cringing if he could see them both.

"We'll give it all we can, sir," announced Irvine, overtly ignoring the moment that had passed between Rinoa and the President.

Laguna nodded at him with approval. "I'm sure you will. Is there anything else Esthar can do, or provide for you? I've heard that Miss Tilmitt is... ah... one of my biggest fans." A touch of pink had risen in his face, and he scratched an ear self-consciously. "Wouldn't want to let her down."

Irvine stiffened again at Rinoa's side. She knew he was jealous of Selphie's infatuation with Laguna. Rinoa had once been present during an argument between Irvine and Selphie, when Irvine had attempted to convince Selphie to take the website she had dedicated to Laguna offline.

_It was one thing when you thought he was a dream. But now we know he's real, he's the goddamn President of Esthar! Don't you realize how creepy it looks?_

_It is_ not _creepy, Irvy! It's a touching tribute to him!_ She turned to Rinoa, eyes pleading. _Rin, help me out._

_Well, Selphie,_ she had hedged, _the thing is, we also know that he's Squall's father now. Which makes it kind of weird for Squall._ _I think it might be better if..._

Selphie had crossed her arms and glared at Rinoa, betrayed. _Squall's never complained to me about it. Not once._

_C'mon, Sefie! You think Squall's gonna come up to you and say 'hey, stop running an online shrine to my pops'? He can barely bring himself to say the guy's name!_

Selphie had stormed off, and added a new entry to the Laguna page that very afternoon, in an admirable show of defiance. Rinoa wondered if Laguna knew of the website's existence. If he did, it might explain the color on his cheeks right now.

"We won't let her down," she said firmly, to Irvine as much as to Laguna. "I can promise that."

They excused themselves, and Irvine marched out of the door, his hat pulled low over his face. Laguna stepped forward to keep the door held open for Rinoa, leaning down to her as he did.

"I was just wonderin'... Squall, is he...?"

"He's fine," she said.

"Think he's ready to talk?"

The note of sadness, of longing, the misplaced hope in his eyes was almost too much for her; he looked so much like his son in that moment. Rinoa fought her instincts hard. She wanted so much to say yes. But Squall would not welcome her making such a decision for him, she was sure of that.

"It's not for me to say," she said, as gently as she could, trying not to watch Laguna's face as his hope crumbled away. "I'm sorry."

"No, I... I get it." Laguna brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes and managed a weak smile. "Give him my best, at least, would you?"

"Of course." She was not sure what possessed her, but she stood on the toes of her boots and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm sure we'll see you soon, Laguna."

He was stunned for a moment, then beamed at her warmly, and the warmth stayed with her as she jogged down the corridor to catch Irvine up. Rinoa was relieved that he had not witnessed her goodbye to the President. It would not have improved Irvine's mood one iota, and she was not even sure herself that she had done the right thing.

"Ready?" Irvine asked while she caught her breath.

"Ready," Rinoa said, and she was. Ready to get the hell out of Esthar, and to put Odine's plan into practice.

Ready to get Selphie back, no matter what.


	7. Chapter VII

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter VII**

Irvine bent down, his fingers on the handle of the car door, and grinned. "Mind if I drive, ma'am?"

Rinoa pushed his hand away and wrenched the car door open herself, scowling as she buckled the seat belt of the passenger seat. "Oh shut up, Irvine. We both know I never got my license."

Irvine walked around the other side and slid into the driver's seat. "Jus' bein' a gentleman," he said amiably. He started the ignition, and the engine of the Timber Rentals sedan juddered into life.

"You'n me on a road trip... Sure brings back memories," he said, once they were onto the highway.

"If you're angling for another beating, I'm not in the mood."

He glanced at her, taking in her dark expression. "Touchy today, aren't we?"

Rinoa gave a long, ragged sigh and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I just can't stand the way you do this.

"Do what?"

"The way you ramp up the stupid charm offensive in line with how nervous you are. It's so transparent _._ Can't you just shut down like Squall does? Or hit things, like Zell?"

"We've all got our ways of dealin' with things," Irvine replied. He felt exposed, having his coping strategy pointed out so directly. Selphie wouldn't do that, he thought. No doubt she saw straight through him, just as Rinoa did, but she'd let him carry on and do his thing. Indulge him. That was why she was...

_The only one for me. Hell, the only one'll who put up with me._

But maybe, a voice told him, he wasn't the one for her. What did he have to offer Selphie? How could he possibly be perfect for her, in the way she was for him?

Irvine frowned, and pushed his boot against the accelerator.

"Sulking now, are you?" Rinoa asked tartly. "Well, it's preferable."

He made a noise through his teeth. "I'm _thinking._ "

"There's a first time for everything." The scorn dripped off her tongue like acid.

If she was bringing out the insults, it meant her nerves were rattling her, too. Irvine could see through Rinoa as easily as she saw through him; not that he would be so ungentlemanly as to mention it. Instead, he flashed Rinoa his most aggressively charming smile, ignored her responding look of disgust, and returned his eyes to the road ahead.

They were getting closer. He knew from the memory of his previous drive that the Temple of Hyne would be visible at the horizon as soon as the car had climbed to the crest of the current sloping hill. Before they reached the top, Rinoa's arms stiffened into rods at her sides, her white fingers digging into the cushion of the passenger seat. Irvine glanced across at her.

"You okay?"

She swallowed. "You... I suppose you can't see it."

"We'll see it soon," he replied, thinking that she meant the temple.

"The magic. The aura. Like a... tornado, or... You can't see anything?"

"Nope."

The car was at the top now, and the last valley before Shenand Hill lay before them, the temple a gray pinprick in the distance. Irvine glanced at Rinoa again. Her eyes were wide, fearful, gazing up at some unseen mass in the sky.

"Lookin' bad out there?" he inquired.

She didn't answer, and he drove on in silence. Rinoa shuffled in her seat, fiddling with the pair of silver rings on her necklace.

"Listen, Irvine, it... It might be me you need to turn the gun on. Just be ready for that."

He spluttered in disbelief. "Don't talk goddamn nonsense, Rinoa."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. Magic like that... I don't know how it'll affect me. If whatever's got Selphie gets hold of me, well... I'll probably be worse than she is. A lot worse."

"For the love of mercy, woman," he muttered, then cleared his throat. "I'm not goin' to shoot you. I'm not goin' to shoot _either_ of you. Hell, I'm not even loading up the damn gun." He mentally kicked himself. _Said the quiet part out loud, genius._

Rinoa pursed her lips and gave him a look of deep disapproval. "Then you're breaking Squall's orders again."

"Since when were you SeeD's little rule enforcer?" Irvine's knuckles tightened against the steering wheel. "Which do you think'll piss Squall off more? Me breakin' orders, or me shootin' his girlfriend?" He caught sight of himself in the mirror, where an unfamiliar, angry young man glared daggers back at him. He shook his head, willing himself to calm down. "Just keep a hold of yourself. You'll be fine. We both will."

Her eyes narrowed, and he braced himself for her retort, but it did not come. Rinoa pulled the seatbelt flat across her shoulder, turned her head to the window, and neither spoke as the car sped onwards, carrying them closer and closer to Selphie.

* * *

Rinoa's whole body was tense as they walked through the arch and into the half-light of the temple. She still had not spoken to Irvine, though he could hear her breathing now, hard and strained. He had the feeling she was fighting something off. Something in the air that he couldn't see, couldn't touch. He almost felt it, though. There was a heaviness, a dense darkness that hadn't been there last time. Maybe this was the result of the past week of Selphie draining that vast Draw point bone-dry. Irvine shuddered. Whatever it meant, it sure as hell wasn't good.

"At last. I have waited for you, Rinoa."

That odd voice, with barely any traces of Selphie left in it, rang out across the chamber before his eyes could focus on her in the dim light. Then he saw her, and his heart lurched, just as it had before. She wasn't Selphie, not any more. She - or _it,_ he didn't know - had taken Selphie's face and body and was wearing them as a costume. Since last time, she had added smears of reddish-gray mud to her cheeks and forehead, in a childlike approximation of Ultimecia's facial markings. In any other context she would have looked ridiculous. Irvine wished he could laugh. The cold chill of terror on the back of his neck told him to keep his damn mouth shut.

Rinoa flinched noticeably when Selphie stepped closer. Irvine kept his eyes on Selphie. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of movement in the air around her body. An impression left by the aura, perhaps. While Irvine knew that he wasn't as skilled at magic as most SeeDs, he surmised that the experience of using para-magic left him with a sensitivity to whatever it was that Rinoa could see. He concentrated, and accessed the part of his mind he used when trying to Draw from an enemy in battle. There it was: a faint purplish-black glow around Selphie, whizzing and moving at breakneck speed. He blinked, lost his focus, and it was gone.

Selphie leaned forward and embraced Rinoa, holding her close and stroking her hair.

"I knew you'd come. We are sisters through Hyne, you and I."

Rinoa had frozen, and Irvine wondered if he should intervene, to free her. But she gently pulled herself away from Selphie's arms, and looked Selphie up and down with wide eyes.

"Wow," Rinoa stuttered. "I mean, I heard you'd had a makeover, but... wow."

Selphie brushed Rinoa's cheek with her fingers, and the possessive adoration in her eyes was a jolt to Irvine's chest. She'd never looked at him like that. He wasn't sure he even wanted her to. The expression was not one of love. It was closer to avarice.

"I am everything you should be, Rinoa," she said.

Rinoa took a step back. "Selphie calls me 'Rin'."

"Do you think that I am not Selphie?" Her tone was wounded, but her eyes were hard, and Irvine moved to Rinoa's side out of instinct. His fingers curled around the rifle slung over his shoulder, even though the barrel was empty.

He had a roll of bullets in his coat pocket, though. _Never say never_.

"I don't know what you are," Rinoa replied.

The air around Selphie began to move faster, and her hair was caught in the movement, swirling and snaking out into a wispy crown above her head.

All traces of affection left Selphie's face, her eyes flashing with fury. "Then why are you here? And why bring _him?_ Did you come to mock me?"

A blast of air hit Irvine's face, and the temple's stone wall slammed at his back, forcing the air from his lungs. He kicked, and his boots flailed, useless in mid-air. She had pinned him against the wall, high-up, and the heavy force at his chest was pushing harder, crushing him. He tried to croak out words. "Rinoa, I could really use a-"

In an instant, the force was gone, dispelled. Irvine's battered body felt like a feather buffeted on a soft breeze as the gentle buoyancy of a Float spell carried him to the ground, and the familiar crimson shimmer of a Shell enclosed around him before his feet touched the floor.

Rinoa had her back to him, but the fingers of one hand were outstretched in his direction. "Thanks," he breathed.

"We're here to rescue our friend. From you," Rinoa told Selphie, her voice stronger than before.

"Selphie accepted me. She welcomed me. She is one with me, and I with her. We are indivisible."

You're wrong," Irvine rasped. "She tried to break free from you. Tried to save me."

Selphie turned to him, her face contorted with rage. " _Do not speak in my presence, boy_!"

Flames coursed towards him, engulfing the Shell, tearing at its translucent walls. One tendril of fire ripped a hole in the spell, and the bubble was filled with black smoke. Irvine's body shuddered with coughs, the acrid fumes stinging his nose and lungs. He slammed a fist into the Shell's walls, desperate to break free.

It held fast, and he sunk to his knees, covering his mouth with his sleeve, gulping tiny, hot breaths through the thick fabric. Then the whole Shell was gone, like a popped bubble, and the smoke dispersed across the cavernous chamber of the temple. Rinoa was at his side, her palm thumping his back, pushing the last coughs out. He felt a sweet balm sweep over him, a Cura spell, he thought, and gripped her knee in wordless gratitude.

"I... think I can do it," Rinoa whispered. "I can see where I need to pull. I can't hold the Shell at the same time. You'll need to run while I-"

"I'm not runnin'." Irvine pulled himself to his feet, straightened his hat, and half-stumbled towards Selphie. _Time to be the decoy._

"Go on then. Do it," he challenged. She glared up at him. Magic or no magic, he still towered over her, and it lent him a false confidence. He swaggered closer. "Can't, can you? She won't let you. She's still in there."

"How dare you?" Her voice was low, terrifying, and he had no doubt she would kill him. Just a few more seconds-

"My Sefie won't let you do it. She's stronger than you'll ever know."

Her hands rose above her head, and he could see the magic massing there. "The vessel means nothing! She is _nothing!_ And you will be-"

She tottered, nearly losing her balance, and cried out in pain. "No! That is not yours to take!" Selphie clawed at the sides of her head in helpless agony. " _Get out_!"

Irvine looked at Rinoa, who was standing stock still, her face a mask of concentration with half-closed eyelids. She was stretching out both arms, and the dim mist in the air around them had warped into a concave shape. Irvine could feel the pull sweep across the chamber. The unseen cloud, the storm, the darkness, was all gravitating towards Rinoa. He shuddered as it passed through his body.

The glow that had appeared in Selphie's hands spread around her body. It was frenzied, manically shifting. If this was the only part visible to him, Irvine wondered, how much could Rinoa and Selphie see? Just how much was there?

The aura was tugging away from Selphie, and her arms swung wildly as she tried to catch it, cling on to it. "Not _yours_. It's _mine_. Mine." He could hear Selphie's real, Trabian accent returning now, her voice a plaintive, childish whimper, echoing "Mine, mine, mine...".

The edges of the glow dulled and flowed into Rinoa, trickling at first, then a rush of barely-perceptible movement tore through the air, and Selphie's legs buckled under her.

In the same moment, Rinoa sunk to her knees, and a light crackled across her skin. Irvine looked on in terror at the flash of another woman's face superimposed on hers. Sharp, unfamiliar features filled with malice. With anger.

"Not me. You will not take me." Each word Rinoa spoke came slowly through gritted teeth. " _You will not._ "

Her head bowed to the floor, and when she looked up, her features were Rinoa's again, pink and flushed with exertion. "She's gone," she said quietly.

Irvine threw his rifle to the floor, and ran to Selphie's crumpled form, a rag doll sprawled across the flagstones.

"There's a pulse. There's a pulse, but..." He lifted her by the torso and cradled her to his chest. "It's too damn faint, Rin, it's barely there..."

The rest of his words were lost as he pulled Selphie closer to him, his forehead pressed against hers. Irvine held her in silence while wave after wave of Rinoa's healing magic poured into Selphie's limp, absurdly tiny body, and he waited for the end to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fire attack was a reference to one of Selphie's dummied-out Limit Breaks, 'Catastrophe' (which is apparently hackable and has a normal Fire animation as a placeholder). Selphie: so powerful she had to have her limits nerfed.


	8. Chapter VIII

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter VIII**

The overhead lighting in the infirmary was dimmed to night-mode, the Balamb sky an inky black outside the window. Selphie's bleary eyes had opened of their own accord, but she knew it was different this time. She was no longer buried under a thick, heavy layer of fog. She had become so used to the impenetrable barrier between her body and her consciousness that she felt exposed, vulnerable, to be without it. Selphie blinked, experimentally. Her eyelids obeyed her with meek subservience.

The sound of quiet, gentle breathing told her that there was someone in the room with her. Selphie lifted her head to the side to see Rinoa asleep, sitting upright on the tiny swivel stool, her shoulder twisted awkwardly against the wall. Selphie's stomach churned at the sight of her. Wasn't there... something she was supposed to feel about Rinoa? There definitely was. She could feel it rising up in her, welling and shifting about. It had the suspicious weightiness of a great wave of crushing guilt, so Selphie ignored it for now and turned her focus back to her body.

Tentatively, slowly, she brought her hand in front of her face. There was no resistance. It moved when she told it to. Fascinated, she watched each finger twitch up and down. One, two, three, four, five. Her body was following her commands. Did that mean...?

What about her voice? Was it hers again? She exhaled experimentally, making a long _hhhuuggh_ sound. So far, so good. But it could be a trap, couldn't it? The _other one,_ the Selphie imposter, might be letting her think she had regained control, only to snatch it away. There had to be some way to make sure. She didn't have to search long for a word that the imposter would never say.

"Booyaka," whispered Selphie softly, and closed her eyes in relief, the pillow cradling her head.

When she opened her eyes again, Rinoa was awake, and smiling groggily at her.

"Welcome back, Selphie."

The wave crashed and broke, and Selphie remembered the source of her guilt. It rocked across her body, making her shoulders shake, and seeped out of her tear ducts.

"Rin... I'm so sorry," she managed, forcing the words through a break in a chain of sobs.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. Those powers were too warped. Who knows how long that poor woman was trapped there, waiting to die. Her mind was broken. You didn't stand a chance."

Selphie sniffled, and wiped at her eyes. "But you took her powers. You pulled them right out of my mind. Didn't you?"

"I did, yes." A half-frown inched its way across Rinoa's face.

"How could you do that? Take all that darkness into you, and not let it drag you under? How are you that strong?"

Rinoa fiddled with a loose thread on her blue wrist-bands, and Selphie noticed how faded and tattered they had become.

"I'm not... I'm not 'strong'."

Selphie sunk back into the pillow, blinking up at the ceiling. "It's me, then. I must be really weak."

"Oh, Selphie. It's not about being weak or strong. It's just... I'm already used to the darkness, I suppose. I've got Adel's powers, and Ultimecia's. Yours are a drop in the ocean compared to those."

Selphie stared at her, dumbstruck. If the presence that had been inside her, with all its might and terror, was nothing more than a 'drop in the ocean' to Rinoa, then...

"How do you live without it driving you crazy?" she blurted out, and saw Rinoa wince.

"It does. Believe me, it does. I think it's mostly Squall that stops me from going the way you did. Being with him, knowing he's there." She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "I don't like to imagine what I'd be without my Knight."

_Knight._ Selphie had never given much credence to the concept. Perhaps it really did mean something, more than fairy tales or pledges of love.

"Irvy offered to be my Knight, when it happened," she said. "I didn't even take him seriously. Maybe it would've changed everything."

"Maybe. Or perhaps you two would have the rest of the world under your domination by now." Rinoa managed a weak smile. "Ruling us all with an iron fist. Who knows."

"No. Irvy's got a good heart."

Rinoa eyed her curiously for a moment. "Mm. You ever tell him that?"

Selphie shook her head.

"Maybe you should."

Selphie wasn't sure she wanted to think about that right now. The events of the past few days had come trickling back, including what she'd done to Irvine. All of it.

"Who do you think she was?" she asked, subdued.

Rinoa's expression was cautious. "The woman in Dollet, or...?"

Selphie shivered. " _Her."_

"I think... the woman you found in the castle was just a host, like you were. Whatever took her over, she felt... ancient. I think she's been around for a long time. Perhaps as long as there's been sorcery, even. She could be part of what makes us Sorceresses, an inevitable part of it. Maybe she was the very first. Or..." Rinoa's eyes slid slowly to Selphie's. "The last."

"Do you mean-"

Rinoa curled her fingers around the necklace at her throat. "What you said about becoming Ultimecia... Well, I've been thinking, and there might be some truth in it. _She_ 's in me now, and I've got her locked away, but one day I'll die, and someone else will have my powers. It's not impossible that she might rise to the surface again."

"If she was inside Ultimecia, then... that's good, right? We defeated her. We broke the cycle."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. But it makes me wonder what the real Ultimecia was like. What if she was someone like you? And we... what we did to her..." Rinoa grimaced. "I'm sorry, Selphie. You just woke up. This isn't helping at all. Don't worry about it, okay? Whatever she was, she's not your problem anymore."

_No,_ Selphie thought with a pang of guilt, _She's yours._

Rinoa was blinking faster now, and her eyes had acquired a glistening sheen.

"But... It was kind of nice. For a while, you know."

"What was?" Selphie asked.

"Not being alone. Knowing that it wasn't just me. Team Witch."

Rinoa let out a small hiccup as she said the last word, and a tear trickled down the side of her cheek.

Selphie leaned across the bed, and let her fingers twine together with Rinoa's. "Team Witch," she whispered.

Rinoa struggled to speak, and they sat in silence. She withdrew her hand from Selphie's when footsteps sounded from across the infirmary. Irvine lingered at the entrance to the room, hat in hands, his hair messy, a tell-tale puffy redness to his face.

Rinoa rose, and offered her seat, the hard plastic stool at the side of the bed. Without speaking, she placed a hand on Irvine's shoulder as she left the room.

"Hey," Selphie said, when he didn't offer a greeting.

"Hey." Irvine's voice was drained of its usual energy.

"How long was I out?"

"Just a day. Day and a half, I guess. It's around two a.m." Irvine fiddled with his hat. "On Thursday," he added, and looked away.

"You been here all that time?"

"Mostly. Had a shower. Ate. Not much else."

Selphie could see it was true: his face was unshaven, and the dark, sagging bags under his eyes told her he'd barely slept, if at all. The wave of guilt was still there, lapping at the pit of her stomach. She cleared her throat, and he looked back at her, questioningly.

"Sorry for going all-out crazy on you."

Irvine scratched at the stubble on his jaw and shrugged. "Shit happens."

Selphie nodded, while wondering if she'd ever meet anyone as forgiving as Irvine Kinneas. She'd nearly 'The End' _-_ ed him, been a whisker away from crushing the life from his lungs with fire and smoke, and all he had to say was _shit happens._ Shit did indeed, she reasoned, happen. It happened far too much, and far too often, to SeeDs. Acting tough about it, ignoring it, burying it worked well enough, most of the time. But not indefinitely.

He'd crack. Or she would. Or both of them would.

"You been crying?" she asked.

"Nope. Not me."

_You're a rotten liar, Kinneas,_ she thought. _"_ Irvy, c'mere."

He moved the stool closer to the bed, looking at her with worried eyes. He had that puppy-dog expression again, but she didn't mind this time.

"Closer than that, silly."

Irvine leaned down towards her, and she reached up to stroke his puffy cheeks, then kissed him on the lips. Too surprised to make an attempt to prolong the kiss, he blinked at her in confusion when she pulled away.

"You'd have made an awesome Knight," Selphie said softly.

The realization that she meant it dawned slowly on Irvine, brightening up his whole face. "Damn right I would've."

"I shouldn't have turned down your offer."

"Learned your lesson now though, huh?" His eyes twinkled at her.

"Sure have."

"Knight or not, I'm yours, Sef. I always have been." He was serious now, and there was a resigned sadness in his tone. "But you're not mine, are you?"

"I could be. I don't know. Maybe not in the way you want."

She half-expected to see him crumple at her admission, but the only sign of his disappointment was a brief sigh.

"Not sure what I want anymore. Think I just want you to be safe. And whatever else we are, that's... enough for me. Probably. We're young, an' all."

"So we are," she agreed.

Selphie watched him as he distractedly combed through his tangled ponytail with his fingers. The maturity of his reaction impressed her. For so long, she'd been running from the idea - the pressure - of Irvine being hopelessly in love with her. Maybe she'd have done better if she had trusted him a little more.

"What's going to happen to me?" she wondered aloud. "Will SeeD take me back?"

"They won't need to. Squall never put your resignation through, y'know."

She leaned back in the bed. "Huh. Sneaky of him."

"Said he trusted that you'd come to your senses."

"I nearly didn't."

At the tremor in her voice, he patted her arm absent-mindedly. "It's over now, Sefie. It's okay. Squall gave you a month off duty. Both of us, actually. Post-trauma recovery leave, he called it." Irvine hesitated. "I thought... If you want, maybe we could spend it together. Go to Trabia, perhaps. See your friends. Somewhere you can forget about all this, for a while."

She covered his hand with her own. "I'd like that, Irvy. Not Trabia, though. Somewhere where it's just us two. Some little island somewhere, or a beach, or... We could, well, y'know."

"We could what?"

Selphie smiled to herself. It always amused her that Irvine, the self-proclaimed king of innuendo, was so inept at picking up subtle come-ons. She would have to tell him straight, for once.

"I think I'd like to give us a chance," she explained. "You and me."

Irvine's eyes could have lit the whole room. "Sounds like a plan, darlin'."

"We could spend it monster hunting. No magic, though. I... need a break from it. Let's go unjunctioned. Both of us. We'll make do with potions and elixirs, and extra ammo for you."

Irvine drummed his fingers against the brim of his hat, still resting on his lap.

"I think I see where this is goin'. Heaven or Hell?"

"Heaven. Definitely." _Better not to tempt fate_ , she thought.

He flashed a grin. "The no-junction, wild-camping challenge on the Island Closest to Heaven it is then." The grin faded, and Irvine's expression turned solemn. "There's just one thing, Sef. Hear me out."

"What?"

"I don't think you should do 'The End' again. I mean _ever_. For any reason."

Of course. He had seen her ultimate battle skill from the other side, from the perspective of her adversaries. Selphie felt a stab of shame that she had never thought to wonder what happened to the enemies she had gleefully cast to their unexpected ends. Wherever it was they went, Irvine had nearly gone there too. And whatever he had seen had left him with a haunted look in his eyes, one that hadn't been there before.

"Not even on a monster?" she asked.

" _No_ ," he said. "It's too goddamn cruel, Sef. Even for a Malboro, or a..." he waved his fingers, searching for a word, and gave up. "One of those green stabby fuckers. You know."

"Tonberries," she said helpfully.

"Yeah. Tonberries." Irvine's eyes darkened. "Little _bastards,_ ", he added with unnecessary vehemence.

The sour look on his face made Selphie want to burst out laughing. She made a mental note to buy a Tonberry plushie when Irvine's birthday rolled around, and leave it on his pillow as he slept.

They both lapsed into silence, and she thought about his request. She slipped cautiously down to the recesses of her mind, and felt around for the wellspring of magic that had always opened itself to her when her limit had been reached in battle. Selphie could find none of it, not any more. No elemental spells, no protective charms, Full-Cures, or even 'The End' itself. There was nothing but an empty space.

"I think it's gone, anyway," she announced, without emotion.

"What's gone?"

"The innate magic I used to have. All of it. I think it all went when Rinoa Drew the Sorcery out of me. Just... gone." _And I don't miss it,_ she realized.

"Hell's chocobos." His eyebrows shot up. "Does that mean Rinoa's got 'The End' now?"

Selphie's face contorted into a frown. "I don't think it works like that. Limits are unique to each person, aren't they? If I've lost it, then it's gone for good."

"Thank fuck for that," Irvine muttered under his breath. Then he smiled at her, that dorky, goofy grin that was his true smile, not the fake megawatt charm he turned on for everyone else.

"The End of 'The End', huh?"

"Guess so," Selphie said. A small part of her mourned it, for the briefest moment. She'd always secretly enjoyed the giddy intoxication of knowing such power was inside her. But now she had walked the path where that kind of power led, she didn't want it anymore.

And besides, there were other things about herself she could start to enjoy again. Things to be proud of. Her skills as a pilot. Her speed and quick wits in battle. Her dedication to the Garden Festival, the joy she found in working to bring people together.

Her friendships. Her teammates. Her loyal, reckless, brilliant, not-quite-boyfriend, even. Rinoa's advice floated to the forefront of Selphie's thoughts.

"You've got a good heart, Irvy," she said sleepily.

He took that the only way she could ever expect him to. With a smirk.

"Most women aren't interested in me for my _heart_ , darlin'."

A suggestive waggle of those dark eyebrows. There it was: an implicit Irvine Kinneas dick joke. The final, reassuring sign that Selphie's world was back to normal.

"Most women aren't interested in you at _all_ ," she pointed out, and yawned.

"You are, though." He beamed at her. Stupidly, hopefully.

"I guess." She let him have that one.

It was almost definitely true, anyway.

* * *

And that was how Selphie and Irvine ended up spending two weeks in a tent on the beaches of the Island Closest to Heaven, eating toasted cheese sandwiches over a campfire, and giggling in each others' arms in a SeeD-brand sleeping bag every night. They returned to Garden not exactly a couple, but something indefinable and comfortable, and it suited Selphie just fine.

There'd be time, later on, to give things a name. To make decisions. But they were young now, with countless possibilities sprawling out ahead. The wide open road of an unknown future.

All their days were still to come, and she intended to make the most of each and every last one.

The End of the End, she figured, was as good a time as any for the Beginning of the Beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this story!
> 
> I have a vague idea of two continuities in my postgame fics, one being Angel's Scar and all my postgame one-shots, and the other being Eye of the Storm (for reasons that are obvious if you've read the first chapter of that fic). I've been undecided as to which timeline to put this fic in. I suppose it could be a prequel to Angel's Scar, but given the position Rinoa ends up in, it might make more sense as a precursor to Eye of the Storm.
> 
> Anyway, huge thanks to everybody who read this, and especially those who took the time to leave kudos, bookmarks, etc.
> 
> p.s. Big apologies to Zell, who spent the whole of this story training in Centra. My fics in general are in dire need of More Zell - I hope to rectify that with a Zell POV story at some point soon.


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